The sun had begun to set when Dranor arrived home, a canvas of glorious colors spreading across the sky that he refused to look at.

At one point in his life, those colors painting the heavens' canvas would have filled him with hope. These days, they filled him with nothing. They, like the rest of this world, had become monochrome; a lifeless parody of the beauty he had once enjoyed, a mockery of everything he had once loved.

His house sat on the outskirts of the Ruudon province. Of course, it was less of a house and more of a hovel that looked like it had been built from scraps of metal. The derelict little hut sat underneath a large overhanging cliff that protected it from the elements and hid it from prying eyes. No one would find this place unless they either knew where to look, or decided to thoroughly explore the surrounding area. Even then, they would have to stumble within a certain radius to see it, for the subtle magics woven around it rendered the house all but invisible to human eyes.

Upon entering the tiny hut, Dranor was greeted by the only thing left in this world that still appeared as color to him, that didn't seem drab and dull, that gave him a reason to continue living.

Vanya.

His mate stood in front of a makeshift stove that had been made with a combination of Alchemy and mechanical ingenuity. He didn't know what she was cooking-likely stew, as it was cheap-but it smelled pretty good, especially when he took the time to consider how few ingredients she had to work with.

Vanya was a beautiful woman who'd been hardened by the lifestyle they had been forced to live. Her once lovely alabaster skin had become a dark tan. Several lines and a number of scars ran down her body, marring the perfection she had once possessed. Her hair, which used to shimmer in the light and felt softer than silk, had become coarse and rough, brittle almost, as if just touching her hair would cause it to crack apart.

He still loved Vanya more than anything in this world and beyond. She was his mate, his world, the sole center of his existence. Nothing could change that. But that didn't mean he liked seeing what had become of her. It reminded him of how he had failed her. Her physical appearance had become like this only because he had failed to protect her, because he had been damned and she had followed him into damnation.

His presence had not gone unnoticed. Being connected as they were, she knew he had arrived home the moment he stepped past the woven magics that hid their home from humans. Vanya turned to face him, her eyes carrying a warmth that had never left in spite of the numerous hardships they had faced.

That smile warmed his soul. His mate was not like him. Cynical and hard. Even now, after everything she'd suffered through, she continued to smile for and support him. For every spiteful remark he made, she had a piece of comforting wisdom to dole out. Every time he had been on the verge of breaking, she had been the one to put him back together with kind words and a smile. It truly amazed him, her astounding capacity to show kindness. She had faced the same challenges as him, had gone through the same hellish life that he had. Yet unlike him, she had not lost herself to despair. She still had heart.

"You're back. How did it go?" Even Vanya's voice was rough and dry. Parched. It sounded like she hadn't had anything to drink in ages. Despite the rough tone she now held, the scars this life had placed upon her, she still smiled for him.

I am truly blessed to have her in my life.

Dranor walked over to his mate and kissed her left cheek. "About as well as could be expected, considering I failed to uphold our end of the contract."

Vanya knew what he spoke of. She was his mate, after all. He shared everything with her.

She turned the stove off and tapped the floor with her foot. Vines sprouted from the ground, wrapped around the pot, and set it on top of a rickety table that looked ready to fall apart at the lightest touch. More vines grabbed wooden plates and utensils, enough for two, and went about setting the table.

Dranor took a moment to marvel at his mate's skill. She was, without a doubt, far more advanced in her form of magic than he was with his.

"I'm guessing he refused to pay you?"

"He did," Dranor ran a hand through his hair.

Vanya turned around and wrapped him in a hug, one that he gladly returned. He could use the comfort right now. "I am sorry," she whispered, "I know you were hoping this would be the last time we had to work with him, that this would be the last time we needed to take a job like this."

"Yes, well, life rarely works out the way we want it to," the words were laced with sarcasm. Despite this, Vanya did not shy from him. She looked up and cupped his face with her hands.

"I am sure that we can do something to fix our living situation." Her left thumb caressed his cheek. "I know things seem hopeless right now, but so long as we have each other, there is nothing we cannot accomplish. The brightest light only shines in the darkest of nights. We cannot afford to lose heart, even when all hope seems lost."

Dranor felt his heart warm at her words, even though a part of him still felt the bitter sting of failure, and the foul taste left in his mouth from dealing with Count Gerosso.

"I do not know if this is our darkest hour, for the light of hope currently shining is as dangerous to us as it is our enemies." Dranor gave Vanya a grim smile when she leaned back to look at him, her hands delicately resting on his shoulders, brow furrowing in confusion. "I've been given another chance to make up for my failure to kill Erica Angelo."

"What does he want you to do?"

"..."

"Dranor?" Vanya was very quick to read between the lines, and when she realized what his employer wanted, her sharp intake of breath echoed in the small hut. "He wants you to go after her again, doesn't he? He's asking you to kill her in her own stronghold, isn't he?"

"... Yes."

"Don't do it." It was not a request. "Please. I know we need the money, but this..." she shook her head and gestured futilely with her hand. "Risking your life like this, it isn't worth it."

"Unfortunately, if I do not risk it, I will be risking both of our lives. I have to do this."

"No, you don't. We can find something else to do. I'm sure we can find a job somewhere else. There's no need to do something like this. It's suicide."

He could see Vanya's point. Sneaking into a Sorceress' stronghold was just about the dumbest thing anyone could do. It was so stupid that even people who couldn't tell their head from their ass knew that it was not a task anyone should undertake, not unless you had a serious death wish. Dranor knew that as well. However...

"Perhaps we could find another person to work for, but how long would it take to find someone who's willing to hire us?" When Vanya remained silent, Drano released a resigned gust of breath. "We don't have the luxury of picking our employer, and as unfortunate as it is, anyone willing to hire us is likely going to be just as bad as Count Gerosso. Who knows. Our next employer could be even worse."

It was hard to imagine that anyone could be worse than Count Gerosso, but Dranor knew enough about human culture to understand that there was always someone worse than the person you abhorred. That was what happened to nations founded on an oligarchy of greedy aristocrats. Even hundreds of years after the Great Succession War, in which the nobility lost many of their rights and the Sorceress Council was created, greed continued to rule the human nations.

"I don't like this."

"Neither do I."

A moment of silence passed between them. Vanya's eyes tightened, then lightened, and Dranor knew that his mate had come to some kind of resolution.

"What should we do?"

The skin around his eyes tightened as Dranor scrunched his face. "We?"

"Yes, we." Vanya's smile was warm but contained hints of steel. "If you think for one second that I am going to let you break into the residence of a Sorceress on your own, than you've got another thing coming." She took a step back, grabbed his hands, and laced her fingers through his. "We're in this together. I will not let you face this struggle alone."

For a moment, Dranor merely stared at his mate, uncomprehending. Yet, after several seconds had passed, he returned her smile with one of his own and gently squeezed her hands.

"Very well. We'll do this together, then."

"Right." Vanya nodded. "So, what's the plan?"

"Plan?"

"Yes, the plan for sneaking into Dorehan Tower and assassinating Erica Angelo. I assume you have one."

"..."

"... You don't have one, do you?"

"I'm still thinking one up," Dranor admitted, only mildly embarrassed.